


miss cigarette

by eightyo



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Dallas Winston - Freeform, Evie - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Lesbians, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Songfic, Steve Randle - Freeform, The Outsiders, dumb teens doing dumb things, evie the outsiders, girlxgirl, i love sylvia ngl, randy adderson - Freeform, rizzle kicks, soft, sylvia - Freeform, sylvia the outsiders, takes place in january 1965, wlw, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:09:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightyo/pseuds/eightyo
Summary: i said i had to leave; i had to get away,it’s funny when i'm not around i've seen better days,sometimes i demonstrate how to set it straight,i filter out the bullshit and keep her locked in case,but when i'm chilling she’s always in my mind,i do her out but the doubts are just glassed in side,i should respond in time but then i found out,the last boy she kissed coughed and died.(miss cigarette - rizzle kicks)





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, girly. Enjoying the party?”

“Hey yourself, cara de mierda.” You quipped back at Randy, shifting away from the rest of the crowd into a less populated room. This room had cheap, fold-up metal tables strewn randomly across the room, with once orderly snacks and drinks now carelessly tossed around the tables, half-eaten.

“Cara de mierda? Pardon my French, but what the hell does that mean?” Randy retorted, searching for any possible insult coming his way that he could usually flawlessly deflect.

“Nothing that concerns you.” You shrugged it off, looking challengingly at the boy standing across from you. You’re no Soc, for sure. You weren’t even quite sure who was hosting this flop of a party. Devon, was it? Last name Prep? Not like you gave a damn, anyways. The music was dreadful and the people were worse, and you’d only come because you had nothing better to do. You’d come with Socs, but they’d only invited you because you were attractive enough to bring them some attention. Again, not like you really cared. Parties could be fun.

“God, Y/N, I have such a fucking headache.”

This one sure wasn’t.

“So, yeah, this party is kind of a bust, huh?” Out of the entire group, you were probably the closest to Randy. It wasn’t by choice or anything, and if circumstances had been any different, you’d have had nothing to do with him, but it just so happened that you shared all of your classes with him that year. Naturally, you two became sort-of friends through copying homework and sharing notes.

“Amen.” Randy calmed down a bit, leaning against the table. He absentmindedly picked up a can of Sprite, popping it open. “I don’t know who’s in charge of the music, but they’ve played quite a few songs twice now. This officially blows.”

“Right? This sucks and the people here are boring. To make things worse, Randy, that guy over there in the next room has been following me around and checking me out. Frankly, man, I regret coming.” You sit in a folding chair next to him, leaning back and squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t mean to be such a dickbag to Randy, but it was just the way you two got along.

“Really? Where?” Randy suddenly perked up, rocking forwards onto his tiptoes to get a better view. He wasn’t the tallest guy, not by a long shot, and you found it silently humorous that he was finding so much difficulty in seeing through the party.

“The one over by the closet in the hallway, with the glasses.” You idly opened an eye, making quick eye contact with the other guy before shutting it again.

“Oh. Him?” Randy sounded put off, a fact that almost amused you.

“That’s the dude.” You said distractedly, giving Randy a thumbs up.

“You want me to go beat him up?” He was joking, but then again, you never really knew with that boy. His temper was more unpredictable than the goddamn lottery, and he could end up socking a kid in the middle of math class just because he was tapping his pencil too loud.

“No need. I got it.” You murmured. Suddenly, you felt strong hands squeeze your shoulders, and you jerked up to see Randy standing over you behind the chair.

“Is he looking? I think he’s looking.” Randy was trying as hard as he could to stay cool while also scoping out the glasses dude. All you had really wanted to do was use the glasses boy as an excuse to leave, but Randy clearly had other plans.

“Randy…” You grumbled, laughing nervously. You didn’t like anyone touching you, but it was even weirder when it was Randy.

“Hold on, Y/N, be patient. This is gonna work. That prick’s gonna see that I got you and then he’ll fuck off. Don’t worry about it.” Randy insisted. You didn’t like how controlling he was being over you.

“Aw, don’t sweat it, Rands. He’s not doing any harm. I’ll just leave.” You assured him, silently cursing yourself for not actually having a way home, since you’d carpooled with all of Randy’s friends; and like hell if they were gonna let you take their car home alone and leave them behind.

“No, play along, Y/N.” You really didn’t like how he was ordering you around. You didn’t think he realized what he was doing, but fuck if you cared.

“I, uh, gotta go to the bathroom.” You muttered, rising out of the chair.

“Y/N, wait-” You heard Randy call after you, but you weaved your way through the large group of people for long enough that you were sure you’d lost him. For a split second, you began to look around for your friends, before realizing where you actually were. Screw that. You pushed past people in the living room, carefully avoiding the guy with the glasses. You spotted another hallway and noticed a bathroom in it, barely visible as it happened to be the exact same color as the floor and walls. Gleefully you made your way over to it like it was some sort of oasis in a flaming desert of shit.

“Come on, clear out. Assholes.” You grunted, squeezing through the wood-paneled hallway chock-full of people who apparently didn’t know how to move. You flung open the dark wooden door after quickly knocking to see if anyone was inside, starting to pull it shut when you noticed a figure directly to the right of you climbing through the window.

“Holy shit!” You yelped, staring at the figure, mouth agape.

“Oh!” She let out a cry of shock, tumbling off of the sink and hitting the ground. You stood in the doorway in shock, staring down at the girl. Just as you started to recognize her, her head flew back up, her long, straight ginger hair dripping over her face, doe brown eyes flashing in panic and determination.

“Sylvia?” You let out a little gasp, and the girl’s eyes widened in shock. She leaped to her feet, clapping a hand over your mouth and using her other hand to slam the door shut behind you.

“Yes, it’s me. Now shut it, loudmouth.” Sylvia hissed, easing back a little bit and dropping her hands.

“What are you doing?” You asked tentatively, raising an eyebrow, eyes wide. It was almost as if you were dreaming; one of the hoodiest, greasiest girls in school sneaking into a Soc party. As if she’d want anything to do with these stuck-up pricks. She was easily recognizable, too, being one of the few girls in school who got detention on the regular. Everyone knew her as the school slut, future prostitute, always mouthing off to teachers and getting sent to the principal’s office. Good ol’ Sylvia Brown, who always had something to say.

“Alright, so, you know Delilah Boone?”

“Yes, you’re friends with her, rig-“

“Okay, good, yeah. So I was trying to get to her house and I got really lost since it’s so goddamn dark out now, with daylight savings and all. Anyways, I *thought* I maybe was in the right house, but apparently not.” She looked around the small bathroom, eyeing up the fancy white tiling and mirror hanging on the wall. She sniffed the air, eyes finally landing on you.

“It smells good as fuck in here, oh my God. It’s like… the air is making out with my lungs. Someone must’ve been burning a citrus candle in here earlier, or something.” Sylvia smiled perkily, eyes drifting to you.

“Weird analogy. I like it.” You didn’t really know why fate decided to bring Sylvia to this bathroom with you, but hell if you cared. She was at least interesting, and that’s all that mattered.

“Thanks.” She responded, leaning against the sink. “So, Y/N, ’s this your place? It’s nicer than I thought it would be.”

“No, actually, I’m here at a party right now.”

“A party? With who?”

“Randy Adderson and some other Socs.” You rolled your eyes, a newfound, sarcastic smile on your lips. “I haven’t even been here an hour and I already want to go home.”

“Ain’t that the truth. They don’t seem like your typical crew anyways.” Sylvia nodded enthusiastically, eyes twinkling a bit. “Delilah’s kind of a jerk, anyhow. I hear she likes Dallas Winston, and you know damn well that ain’t gon end well.”

“Yikes.” You sighed. Dallas and Sylvia had been on-again, off-again dating since the goddamn third grade. They hated each other so bad that they fought nearly every time they saw each other, so they just stayed out of one another’s way for the greater good. Still, there were the occasional times they were ‘on’, so it’s taboo if anyone else tries to publicly go after Dallas Winston, especially considering he has Sylvia for a half-girlfriend. Essentially, Dallas was one of the least available guys in school.

“Honestly, if I’m at a Soc party, I gotta be far as hell from Delilah’s place.” Sylvia brushed some of her long silky hair out of her face, rubbing her temples. “How the hell did I get all the way over on the west side, then?”

“I have no idea. It’s an enigma.” You laughed a bit.

“That’s fair. Hey, at least I have an excuse to avoid goin’ to Delilah’s tonight.” Sylvia smiled softly, and you looked into her eyes, allowing a rare moment in which you sincerely wondered why this beautiful girl had such a bad reputation.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” Both of you jumped as the doorknob rattled, and a soft pounding on the door began that could hardly be heard over the music.

“Oh, shit.” You moaned, gazing resentfully at the brown wooden door. You recognized Randy’s voice behind it, and you looked frantically around the bathroom for another way out.

“Is that Randy?” Sylvia asked as she started to back up against the wall, and while you were thinking of a plan, she was crawling back up off the sink and out through the window.

“Y/N? Is that you? Everything okay in there?” The voice kept asking. You looked up at Sylvia, who was now suddenly halfway out the tall, rectangular window.

“Sylvia?” You whispered, and she pulled herself back in a little bit to speak to you.

“You coming or not, Y/N?”

“I…” After briefly considering your other options, you quickly started climbing up on the sink. “Alright, fine.”

“That’s the spirit! Or good enough, I guess.” Sylvia was hanging on to the windowsill by her fingers, and after swinging out a little bit she let herself drop. With remarkable precision, she landed in a crouch before getting back up on her feet. “Thank God we’re on the bottom floor.”

“Shit, Sylv.” You weakly gulp, sitting in the window frame. Below you there were thick, leafy hedges likely filled with thorns and disease. Definitely not something you wanted to fall into.

“Just jump over them, you’ll be fine.” Sylvia sensed your tension, and you made short eye contact with her before staring beyond the hedges, readying your jump. It was then you realized that the ground sloped down, and the drop was a lot l

“Oh, double shit.”

“For chrissake, Y/N.” Sylvia groaned. “You’ll be just fine. Have you never jumped off of anything before?”

“Alright, good point. I jumped off of all sorts of dumb stuff when I was a kid, I can do this now.”

Summoning all your courage, you took a springing leap off of the windowsill, falling clumsily to the ground and rolling before coming to a dizzying stop at Sylvia’s sneakers.

“Holy crap, I really just did that.” You breathed, staring up at Sylvia before stretching up to a wobbly stand and brushing dirt off your clothes.

“Eh, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Sylvia shrugged, then her eyes flew to you. “Still, it was pretty cool, wun’t it?”

“Yeah.” You mused, briefly glancing back at the window. A box of light illuminated the ground where you stood, shining down from it. “We should probably motor, huh?”

“Oh, right, of course. The party sounds like a mess anyways.” Sylvia said, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her raggedy black zip-up sweater. She took one last look at the old brown brick house before booking it through the large backyard. You followed suit, skidding a bit in the autumn leaves littering the yellowing grass.


	2. Chapter 2

“Jesus Christ, my lungs are on fire!” You wheezed, feeling like you’d keel over any second. You took a break for a moment, hands on your knees as you bent down to catch your breath.

“Ugh, shit.” Sylvia was having a perfectly fine time running and jumping fences from backyard to backyard as you two crossed through the west side of Tulsa, and seemed a bit bothered to have to wait for you to catch up.

“How are you so good on this? It’s not like you’re on the track team or anything.”

“I get it from running from the cops, babe.” Sylvia winked mischievously at you before turning back around, and you took another deep breath-sigh.

“Where are we even going?” I asked Sylvia, looking at my surroundings. I was in the middle of some backyard behind a pool that had been covered over for the winter months; Sylvia a few yards ahead of me.

“Good question. I don’t know!” Sylvia chirped, sarcasm bleeding through her words. “I was just going to wander around like this until I got to someplace familiar, but I realize now that that was a dumb plan.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” I muttered, ticked off that I was doing all this exercise for nothing.

“I deserved that.” Sylvia said. “Anyways, ya wanna just catch a cab?”

“Hell yes.” I breathed, relieved.

“Great, now all we gotta do is find one.”

“In this neighborhood?”

“You’ve got a point.” Sylvia froze for a moment, thinking. Cabs weren’t as common in richer neighborhoods as they were in the real city, especially not at this time of night. Up here, everyone can afford cars so there really wasn’t much need for them. “Spontaneous adventures are harder than I thought they’d be.”

“You’re damn right.” You quipped, then softening your tone. “We can just wait.”

“Yeah, someone’s bound to come home from their mistress’s house or from going over to their boyfriend’s house to bang.” Sylvia joked darkly, and you laughed. You skipped over the curb and sat down on it, looking back and waiting for Sylvia to sit down beside you. As she took her place by your side while you were busy trying to wedge a stick in the storm drain a few feet away, the two of you waited.

It had been nearly fifteen minutes, and you both were getting restless.

“When will this fucking cab come?”

“It’ll come. I’ve been stranded kinda near here before and it takes a while. Usually doesn’t take this long, but it’ll come. Probably.” Sylvia murmured. Suddenly, she perked up with the spark of a new idea and shoved her hand into her pocket, whipping out a brand new Sharpie marker and popping off the cap.

“Be right back.” She said with a smirk, making a mad dash over to the house you were sitting in front of. It really was a genuinely nice house; it had snow white walls and a dainty wood door, and was of a decent size as well. It likely belonged to an upper-middle-class sort of family; with a wife, husband, and kids. You imagined the kids coming home from school, not having to worry about being teased for where they were born, playing with their expensive toys and doing their homework before sitting down at the dinner table for a nice warm meal prepared lovingly by Mom, just as Pop comes home from a hard day at work. It pissed you the fuck off, for reasons you couldn’t explain quite right at the moment.

“Aw, Sylv, come on. You’re not really gonna…” You didn’t even finish your sentence; you didn’t have to. Sylvia was already dragging the Sharpie across the nearly pure white wall, messily scrawling her initials across in midnight ink.

“Your turn.” She turns around after she finished with a cheeky grin, the Sharpie in her outstretched palm.

“Oh, man, what if someone sees us?” You moaned, biting your lip anxiously and doing approximately the fifth double take in a minute.

“We’ll just run. No biggie.” Sylvia shrugged casually, keeping her gentle yet insistent gaze frozen dead on you.

“I-“ You decided it useless to try and say anything. “Alright, fine.”

You got up off of the curb and walked over to Sylvia, picking up the Sharpie with your dominant hand. You hesitated, finding a good spot besides the large, thin S.B. chicken-scratched onto the wall. You started to write your own initials, and found the rush of adrenaline that came with it almost comforting.

“Screw these people.” You said triumphantly with a smug smile, and Sylvia whooped a little louder than you felt comfortable with.

“Hell yeah! Now that’s the spirit!”

“Who’s back there?”

“Oh, shit on a stick!” Sylvia snapped.

Sylvia and you both whirl around to see a heavyset man in a long, neatly tailored trench coat stepping out of a checker cab directly in front of the white-walled house. He couldn’t see your faces, but the streetlight he stood under perfectly illuminated the pure, unadulterated anger on his face.

“Quick! The cab!” You said, breaking into a run, and Sylvia followed you without another word. The man began running in your direction, swearing under his breath. Luckily, he wasn’t very fast, so you were able to run around him and leap into the cab, Sylvia nearly landing on top of you. Sylvia closed the door, muffling out the shouts from the man outside, and relaxed a bit, still panting wildly.

“Uh…” The cab driver said in confusion. He was young, not much older than you and Sylvia, and had a remarkably acne-scarred face.

“328 Darkton Street, please.” Sylvia told the cab driver. He froze for a second, processing the information.

“A’ight.” The driver said, starting up the car again.

“Is that your address?” I quietly asked Sylvia, and she shook her head.

“Hell no, but it’s the best we got for right now. My man Vinnie’ll take anyone in.” Sylvia said, resting her head back against the seat of the car as the driver drove off.

“Vinnie? As in Vinnie Cahill?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Went to grade school with the guy,” You said, searching your memories. You hadn’t spoken to Vinnie in years, but from word of mouth you knew the guy was a prick. He was only 5’5 but could really rock your shit if he was angry, and had had a widely publicized feud with Dallas Winston since that summer. Good ol’ Dallas had said something punk-ish to Vinnie, and You knew Vinnie and Sylvia only hung out with each other to make Dallas mad, and that amused you in a way.

“Huh. That’s alright.” Sylvia didn’t sound too interested in the conversation anymore, so you let it die out. You turned your head, watching the streetlights flicker and the patterned houses change color, shape, and size as you passed through the neighborhoods.

“Fuck.”

“What’s up?” You turned back to Sylvia, snapped out of your daze.

“Left my damn wallet at home.” Sylvia hissed, and the cab driver raised an eyebrow in alarm.

“Well…” You check your own pockets, and a wave of relief washed over you as you felt wadded up balls of sweet, sweet cash. “I have fifteen bucks. Cabbie, will that cover it?”

“Uh, yeah. It should.” The cab driver said, looking back at you in the mirror. His voice was squeaky and pubescent, and you noticed Sylvia hold back a laugh when he responded. The cab driver turned red and directed his eyes back to the road.

“Thank God.” You heard Sylvia whisper, and you let yourself fall back into your daze from before.

“Hey, Y/N. Pay up.” Sylvia nudged you out of your thoughts yet again as the cab slowed to a stop, and you lifted your head up. “We’re here.”

“Oh. Right.” You pulled the crumpled dollar bills from your pocket and handed them up to the cab driver, who unfolded them and counted them twice at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Here’s y’ change.” He grunted, and you snatched the pitiful amount of money left and booked it out the cab door, following Sylvia’s lead. The cab driver sped off barely after you had left the cab itself, dumping off you and Sylvia off in front of a white paneled rowhouse. It was separated from the other houses by an overgrown chainlink fence, and even though it looked exactly like all the other houses on the street, it still stood out. Statues, likely all stolen, littered the front yard and steps, and there were only a few rare patched of grass in the whole mud puddle of a yard.

“Come with me.” Sylvia said, and she suddenly took your hand in hers. You couldn’t help but blush with surprise at this, and she pulled you onto one of the grass patches. Upon closer examination, as you and Sylvia made your way closer and closer to the house, the front door was chained shut by the door handle. Sylvia seemed to notice this too, and started directing you to the side.

“Oh my God!” You yelped, as a brown and white dog started barking at you from the side of the house. He was chained to the railing of the side door steps, but he was pushing the lengths of the chain to a worrying degree.

“That’s Boogie. Don’t touch him and he won’t touch you.” Sylvia said, pointing to the dog. Boogie kept on barking, but lessened his snapping when he noticed Sylvia. You two discreetly made your way around Boogie and up the steps.

“We should probably be quiet when getting in,” You advised in a hushed tone. “I don’t wanna wake up Vinnie’s folks or nothin’.”

“Ey, yo, Vinnie! Let us in!” Sylvia completely ignored your advice, banging on the screen door with her fist and yelling like some sort of crazed chimpanzee.

“Sylvia, what are you doin’, goin’ off like that?” You gritted your teeth anxiously, glaring at your companion.

“Aw, Y/N, don’t be such a pussy. Vinnie don’t got no parents, at least none who are around at all.” Sylvia winked at you, shrugging casually. “It’s free fuckin’ reign over here.”


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s free fuckin’ reign over here.”

You hadn’t the slightest idea what ‘free fucking reign’ entailed exactly, but as you ignored your gut instincts, you couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

“Sounds chaotic. I’m in.” Right as you agreed, you heard thumping and shouting from upstairs, growing louder and louder until a loud bang right outside the door made you jump.

“Door’s unlocked now! C’min.” A strikingly feminine voice called out, before stomps took the voice back upstairs

“Hell yeah you are. Come on.” Sylvia continued the conversation, grabbing your hand and yanking you into the house, carelessly throwing open the chipping white door. The house was dark and smelled like a mixture of weed and cigarettes; it was so intense that you nearly gagged out loud. The small, thin floor of the foyer was littered with bottled, shoes, and other miscellaneous objects over what might have once been a rug, only adding onto the claustrophobia of the room. A winding staircase was the only exit out of the room, besides the front door, that is. Sylvia kicked off her sneakers and ran upstairs before you, blowing right past you as you were still untying your own shoes.

"Wait! Sylvia, where are you going?" You called after her, still fiddling with your shoelaces.

"Just keep going up the stairs all the way 'til the top floor. This house is too small to get lost in, I think you'll figure it out."

After tossing your shoes to the side, you started up the stairs, keeping your eyes open. You didn't know what to expect at all, quite frankly. The second floor had three rooms connecting directly from the stairs; both were small and cramped, which seemed to be a recurring theme in this place. You decided to keep going up the stairs, finally until you reached a third floor. There were two rooms, one of which had so much junk piled up behind it that it was unable to be opened. You stepped past that to the room next to it, with a white door with blurred glass windows. You hesitated for a second before cracking it open. You were relieved to see Sylvia sitting on a mattress, flipping through the magazine sitting on her lap with a cigarette between her fingers.

"Oh, hey, Sylvia." You gave her a little wave, and she nodded back at you. You stepped into the berber carpeted attic room, taken aback by the pungent aroma of marijuana. The room was a mess; books, clothes, and trash were scattered across the room, and the mattress-bed looked like it hadn't been made in years. A torn red armchair sat a few feet away from the bed, licks of stuffing leaking out from the tears. In it sat Evie Girvin, looking absolutely baked. She had a poorly rolled cigarette in between her fingers, and her eyes were red and tired. She looked up at you with alarm as you shut the door behind you, her gaze softening as she saw it was just you.

"Y/N! Hey, man!" Evie weakly said, her voice scratchy and rough. You and Evie had had almost all of your classes together since sixth grade, and the two of you were pretty close, as you saw each other on a near daily basis. She was a comforting, familiar sight in this house, despite the fact that she was clearly high as a kite. You assumed it was her who unlocked the door for you and Sylvia.

"Hey yourself, Evie. Where's Steve at?" You asked, simply making polite conversation.

"He can't come 'til later. His dad's making him do yard work and other dumb shit." Evie rolled her eyes, taking a puff on her cigarette. 

You looked past Evie to see a kid your age with shaggy blond hair cut Beatles-style rolling a joint on a bumblebee striped Polo shirt, the rest of the gram sitting in a small Tupperware container on the short chest of drawers he was knelt over.

"Can someone give me a hand with this?" Vinnie asked, whipping his head and looking me up and down, not caring to give any further acknowledgement of my existence. Sylvia promptly hopped off the bed and kneeled next to him, putting out her cigarette on the magazine and tossing them both to the side.

"You're doing it all wrong, Vin. Let someone who *isn't* high do this," Sylvia shoved Vinnie to the side, causing him to let out a cry of protest.

"Sylvia, you fucking wreck! You spilled some of it into the shirt! I liked that shirt!" He said, glaring at Sylvia from his position on the floor.

"Just give me a second!" Sylvia hissed, trying to pinch together the ends of the rolling paper. Her narrowed eyes flew in your direction, giving you a tense grin. "Sorry about this, Y/N."

"Can someone go downstairs to get food with me?" Evie blurted out, shaded blue eyes slowly drifting to you. She started to push herself up from the chair, smothering the final embers of her cigarette in the armchair. "Y/N, why don't you come with me? Let's go."

"Sure." You complied, a little relieved, not really too invested in Sylvia and Vinnie's quarrel. Evie gave you a friendly nudge as she walked back through the doorway, signaling for you to follow. 

You trailed after her, following her down to the second floor. Evie ducked into one of the rooms; it was just as messy as the rest of the house, although it was easily the biggest room. White cupboards lined the wall closest to the door and kitchen counters placed beneath them, with a small fridge and sink thrown into the mix. A wobbly-looking wooden table with only three chairs sat at one end of the room, but that was pretty much it.

"Here we are." Evie said with slight satisfaction as she carelessly threw open one of the cupboards, sticking her arms inside to scavenge for anything edible. You walked around her to the fridge, pulling it open after a few unsuccessful tugs. There wasn't much in the fridge; it was almost saddening. It was comprised almost entirely of leftovers stashed away in all sorts of boxes, tupperware, and plastic containers. Nothing looked all that appetizing, and besides, you and Evie were only getting something quick. You closed the fridge, moving on to the cupboards as well.

"She really likes you, y'know." Evie said suddenly, still rooting around in the cupboards.

"Huh?" You asked, looking up from the likely expired box of cereal you were holding.

"Sylvia. It's not at all like her to carry around someone she just became friends with to one of her usual spots like this, especially not if it involves pot." Evie said. "Hell, I didn't know the two of you were friends.

"I didn't either, really. It was sort of a... spontaneous kind of thing. She can be nice, though. Not at all like what other people say." You said with a shrug, putting the cereal box down onto the table to bring back up to Vince's room.

"Aww, how sweet." Evie said, tucking a bag of chips under her arm before turning to you. "Yeah, Sylvia's a toughie, and sometimes I wonder if she has any heart to her at all. She don't like me much, and from what I can tell, she can only tolerate, like, five people. She hates everyone else."

"I don't know why she likes me, really." You admitted, partially talking to yourself in your speech. "We don't have much in common at all except for the people we hate. Yet, she's taken me with her; almost under her wing."

"Respectable. Nice goin', Y/N." Evie said with a small smirk. She used her foot to close the open cupboard closest to her, turning and slowly heading back upstairs with the chips. You quickly grabbed one more box of cereal and dashed after her.

"Snack train comin' through!" Evie crooned, her voice still weak and wobbly from the high. She carelessly tossed the bag of chips onto the floor where Vince and Sylvia sat facing each other, flopping back into the red armchair and started to pull out her nearly empty pack of cigarettes. You came in the room just after her, pausing for a moment to collect yourself before throwing the cereal boxes on top of the chips.

"God bless." Vince mumbled, snatching up one of the boxes of cereal. He passed the blunt in between his fingers to Sylvia, who gave it a hearty puff. With his free hand, he pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser and pulled out one of his many switchblades, flipping it open and stabbing it into the middle of the cereal box. He dug his hand in, shoving a fistful of colorful cereal into his mouth.

"Why wouldn't you just open the box from the top? It's easier and you don't have to use a switchblade." You pointed out, raising an eyebrow at Vince. Vince looked up at you, eyes reddening from the pot.

"Shut the hell up."

"Vince, be nice." Sylvia spoke up, giving Vince a nudge. Vince let out a swear, then put the switchblade back in the dresser drawer. Sylvia then turned to you, patting the ground beside her and Vince.

"Y/N, come join the pot circle, girl! We'd love to have you."

"Oh, I-" You hesitated for a moment. You liked Sylvia and you'd always wanted to smoke pot, but you hadn't ever actually done it before. You didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of Evie, Vince, and most importantly Sylvia. "Sure."

"Ooh! Let me get a hit!" Evie piped up, leaning forward out of her chair. Cigarette was in one hand, she reached down and snatched the blunt from Sylvia.

"I've actually never smoked weed." You said as casually as you could, taking a seat in between Sylvia and Vinnie. Neither of them seemed fazed by your comment whatsoever, to your relief.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." Sylvia's voice was soft, gentle. "I'm not try'na make you do nothin' you don't want to, Y/N, babe."

"No, no, it's alright." You said, trying to hide the blush forming on your cheeks by flipping your hair. "I'm totally down."

"Alright, then." Sylvia shrugged. She turned around and snapped her fingers in Evie's face, who was sitting with the blunt in her mouth, completely zoned out.

"Hey! Evie!"

"Huh?"

"Pass it on, alright? Don't be a jackass." Sylvia said. Evie reluctantly took one final puff off the blunt, passing it to Sylvia who passed it forward to you.

"So, uh, what do I do?" You murmured, examining the blunt closely.

"You inhale a bunch into your mouth, then down to your lungs. Not both at the same time; not like smoking a cigarette." She instructed, and you put the blunt to your lips. It had faint cherry stains on it from Sylvia's lipstick, and it burned your fingers a little bit. Sylvia took the lighter from Vince and flicked it on, holding it to the blunt. You did as you were told, and ripped the blunt from your mouth as you felt the sour-ish smoke flow down your throat.

"Oh, shit." You laughed, hacking a little bit. Sylvia laughed a little bit, but not in a mean way or nothin'.

"Pass it." Vince commanded, blinking slowly.

"Aw, it's almost out. Whydon'tcha let Y/N have one more hit?" Sylvia crooned, lightly holding your wrist. It was comforting in a way, even though it would normally be seen as threatening.

"Fine, whatever. Only 'cause it's her first time." Vince reluctantly obliged, eating some more of the cereal he stabbed. Sylvia lit the blunt again, and you repeated the action.

"Fuck, alright..." You wheezed, passing the blunt to Sylvia. "Thanks."

"Anytime, girl." Sylvia winked at you, taking one final breath off the blunt before letting it burn out.

"So how do I know when it hits?" You queried, feeling your words beginning to slur.

"Oh, you'll know." Sylvia vaguely answered. "Trust me."

Within a minute, you knew just what Sylvia meant. Your hearing became extraordinary, yet your mind started to tune out the background conversation going on between Vince and Evie. Sylvia was just watching you the whole time, a small, amused smile on her lips as her doe brown eyes studied you. There was something else in that smile, something you couldn't quite pick up at the time. You let yourself fall backwards onto the carpet, letting out a proud chuckle.

"What's that?" Vince halted, pale brown eyes whizzing around the room. You hadn't heard anything, so you were confused as to why Vince was so put off.

"Calm down, Vince, you're just high." Evie laughed in a mocking tone, rocking back into her seat.

A door slammed from downstairs. I heard it that time, and from the look on Evie and Sylvia's faces, they heard it too. Vince paused for a moment, eyes frozen in a rare expression of fear.

"Fuck. My mom's home."

"Alright, well, I think it's almost time for me to go meet up with Steve!" Evie pushed herself up the ground, dusting herself off. She drifted over to the window, pushing it open and sticking her leg outside. She let herself fall until you could only see her head before she turned around to give the three of you one final wave. After that, she set off, the clang of the fire escape matching her pace until it faded out into the night.

"What is with you guys and climbing out windows?" You quipped quietly to Sylvia, who let out a sharp laugh. Vince whipped around, glaring at you both.

"Can you two shut the fuck up for a minute?" He growled through gritted teeth. He turned back to the door, pushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "Be right back. You two stay here."

With that, he pulled open the door and ran off. You and Sylvia exchanged glances, a small grin growing on Sylvia's face.

"We're ditching, right?" You asked.

"'Course we are. C'mon." Sylvia said, getting up. You did as well, though you were a little wobbly from the high. Sylvia grabbed hold of your arm for a quick moment to help steady you, before she led you to the window Evie left through. She hopped out first, standing there for a moment to help you out as well.

"Here, let me help. I don't want you falling. It's your first time being high, so it's gonna feel like this for a while. You get kinda used to it after a while." Sylvia advised. You sat on the windowsill as she put her hand on your hip, and let you slip down onto the fire escape with a bang. Rain was beginning to fall, drizzling soothing little pitter-pats onto the metal platform.

"Thanks, Sylv." You thanked her. You looked off the fire escape to see if Evie was still nearby, but the girl was nowhere in sight.

"No problem, Y/N. Now, let's split!" Sylvia exclaimed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Wait, hold on!" You moaned, the world swelling and pulsating around you. Sylvia was already down a flight on the fire escape, nearly at the ground. She paused, whirling around to go help you.

"I got'cha, I got'cha." She murmured softly, running up to you. She threw her arm over your shoulder, walking you down the fire escape as the rain started to pour down above you two.

"Gee, thanks, Sylv..." You hummed, stepping off the fire escape with Sylvia at your side.

"It's cool, man. Vince is probably gonna be pissed that we left him, so we sorta gotta go." Sylvia said, her hold on you still comfortingly tight. "Can you walk alright?"

"Yeah, it was just the stairs that made me woozy. I can walk just fine." You said, treading back and forth on your feet to get a new feel for them.

"Oh. That's good." Sylvia said, letting go of you and sheepishly shoving her hands into her jacket pocket. You two walked down the sidewalk, silently enjoying each other's company as your surroundings faded from suburb to city. Vince's house was on a prominent street leading downtown, so it was only a few minutes' walk before you were surrounded by lights and people once again. Despite this, the city was eerily emptier than usual, likely because of the late hour. 

"So, um," Sylvia began, an unusual tentativeness carrying through her words. "You, like, wanna get something to eat? Maybe dinner somewhere, or we can just grab a quick bite in a store. I don't really care. It's up to you."

"That... actually sounds nice." You said, the redness still on your cheeks growing more prominent.

"Actually, never mind, it's really late." Sylvia pointed out solemnly, lifting her head up to get a better view of your surroundings. "I doubt any decent joint's gonna be open. We can just nab somethin', though."

"Wait, holy shit." You yelped, turning to Sylvia and tugging on her jacket sleeve, choosing to ignore the fact that she just asked you to rob a store with her. "I'm still supposed to be at this party thing and be back by sunrise. Sylv, I gotta get home soon or else I'm dead meat."

"Well, what time is it?" 

"I don't know." You whimpered, eyeing up your painfully watch-less wrist, desperation in your reddened eyes.

"Dummy. You're wearing a watch." Sylvia motioned to your other wrist. Sure enough, you did, in fact, have one on. Only thing was, you couldn't read it. It all looked wavy and squiggly to you, like it'd been smudged.

"I can't see it, Sylv. The pot's screwin' my brain." You quavered, feeling a sudden rise of emotion within you. You weren't sure why you were so fixated and anxious over this, when it slowly occurred to you that it might be because of the marijuana. Sylvia grabbed your wrist to hers, looking at the watch so closely that you thought she might accidentally poke her eye out with it.

"Four somethin'. I can't tell the specifics." She responded with a shrug, leaning back.

"Oh, shit. How was it that long?" You grumbled, and Sylvia shrugged once again.

"Time flies by when you're havin' fun, I guess." She mused, and you couldn't help but grin a little bit.

"Aww, Sylviaaa..." You poured at the sweet remark. Sylvia was never like this; not with other people and certainly not at school. It was almost disturbing in a way, but the kind of disturbing that draws people to horror movies. Unpredictable yet enjoyable. 

"My folks don't give a rat's ass where I am and if I come home, so I can spare time to walk you home." Sylvia offered. "Where y' live?"

"Half mile back Vince's way, but if you wanna get there faster, you take the second street that splits off by the bank." You recollected, using all of your remaining brainpower to remember where you live.

"Oh. That's conveniently close." Sylvia said. She turned back around in the direction of your place to get a better look at the streets.

"Well, I'm really hungry, dude. I know you gotta get back, but it wouldn't hurt to get something from a convenience store." Sylvia asked tentatively. "I know just the place, too, now that'cha mention it."

"Oh..." You started, eyes drifting wearily to the ground, the muscles slipping out of your control for a brief moment. 

"Alright."

"Hell yeah!" Sylvia pumped her fist, a smirk on her face. "There's a small corner store just 'round the block from here, I always go there when I'm high. Or at least when I remember to."

"Sounds like a plan?" You raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to read what the aforementioned plan could exactly be off Sylvia's face.

You blinked, and Sylvia was standing behind the store windows of a (convenience store), peering in and pressing her hands against the glass like a curious toddler.

"There ain't no clerk in there, right? See if you can tell." Sylvia's voice was muffled against the glass, but you understood her request well enough. You followed suit, rubbing a little clear spot in the fogged up glass with your palm and scoping out the store through it. Sure enough, the cash register was 

"I don't see anyone." You reported your findings, and Sylvia peeled herself off the glass with rigor.

"Oh, thank the Lord. Yeah, they got some poor senior kid to run the night shifts on weekends, must be his parents' store or somethin', but he always goes into the store room to take a nap after a few hours." She prompted to fling open the door so hard that your heart stopped for a second, afraid that a bell might go off or it'd wake the cashier or something. Something was bound to go wrong, or at least that's what your mind kept telling you.

"Jackpot." She cheered under her breath as you ducked in the store after her. She dipped into one of the aisles just as you were collecting yourself, taking a rather long time to do so, and you merely drifted after her, a ghost of the energy you were so full of earlier. You watched drowsily as she pulled a pack of M&Ms off the shelf, quickly popping open the mouth and magnificently dumping several in her mouth, shoving the rest of the bag in her pocket. You observed this pattern for a while, Sylvia moving slowly down the aisle and shoving junk in her pockets, occasionally becoming impatient and just eating whatever she pleased. Your mind was awake still, humming and buzzing with dull thoughts and notions, taking apart and analyzing what you could from tonight.

"Sylvia?"

"Hm?"

"No offense, but why do you hang out with Vince and trash like him?" You asked quietly, already regretting speaking it in the first place.

"I don't really know. Vince's crowd is fun sometimes, and they're the ones to go to when you want a quick high."

"Boy, you said it." You laughed politely, watching her eye up the shelves in search of something half-decent at best. "Your standards are alarmingly low."

"If they were any higher, I'd have no one." She responded smoothly and without hesitation, picking up a can of spam with her bitten fingernails and looking it over.

"Huh." You didn't really know how to respond to that one.

"I know they're all gonna end up dead or at least in jail in a couple years, but what can I do. Whatever. I don't let it get to me." She casually tears open a candy package, pulling out a blue candy rope while keeping her dull expression focused dead ahead.

"To each his own, I guess." You murmured. You felt bad; you hadn't wanted to antagonize Sylvia or anything. You wanted the best for her, was all. You found it weird how you thought that after only a few hours of being friends and doing dumb shit together. Experiences pulled people together, you supposed.

"Alright, I got all I want. You get anything?" Sylvia started to head for the door, pausing to look behind her at you. You shrugged, eyes flying back to the candy shelf at the cash register. You grabbed a pack of caramel creams and dug your hand into your pocket, slamming a few quarters on the counter before going back after Sylvia.

"You paid?" She said, and you couldn't really tell if she was scoffing at you or not.

"Yeah, I don't want them to get suspicious or nothin'. I don't know." You looked downwards, a bit ashamed that you'd done that. To you relief, Sylvia didn't take the matter further, instead going off on her own little tangent about how gross menthols were becoming. Aside from the brief few nods and murmurs of acknowledgement, you stayed silent, letting her rant to you. Even though you weren't a smoker and frankly had no interest in the topic, it was Sylvia and the way she talked when she went off like that that really immersed you. She had little mannerisms; like the twitching of her eyes and the tendency to throw her arms around wildly to embellish the point she was trying to make.

You really couldn't help but listen to the girl, no matter how dumb the subject matter. She occasionally talked about things you considered frivolous, like who slept with who, though it was important to her. It didn't matter, none of this did, but somehow it did to you. In a way. You couldn't understand it, and you hoped she couldn't either. You didn't want to be with anyone else right now. It felt right to be here.

"You wanna smoke?" You're jolted back to consciousness by Sylvia, who's shakily holding out a cigarette in your direction. She's got an unlit cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of her own mouth, tilting it downwards with her upper lip so her slightly damp ginger hair wouldn't stick to it. You two were halfway back to your house; all you had to do was keep walking down this road and you'd get there eventually.

"Oh, nah, sorry. I don't smoke." You put your hand up, politely refusing the offer. Sylvia nods silently, sliding the cigarette back into the pack, shoving it down into her overstuffed black jacket pocket. She lights the other one with a loose match she wrangles out of her other pocket, tossing it to the ground and letting it burn out in the rain-soaked pavement.

"That's good. Don't do it." She said. You jolted up, taken aback.

"Huh?"

"It's a nasty habit. I started when I was - what, twelve? It smells terrible, and scientists are sayin' now that it's real bad for you." She said, keeping her head down. A small cherry bud burned brightly at the end of the cigarette, and Sylvia tore it from her mouth with distaste, breathing out a puff of smoke quickly smothered by the consistent drizzle.

"You don't have to worry 'bout that. I ain't got no interest." You affirmed, giving Sylvia a playful nudge on the shoulder.

"You fuckin' better." She nudged you back, affection in her soft, raspy voice and in the very way she carried herself.

You were in the side yard of your house. You couldn't, for the life of you, remember the very simple location in which the spare key was located, so you knew you had to think of a different plan. Sylvia had burned her way through her cigarette by this point, and instead of tossing it into your yard, she had it perched in between her fingers, and was examining it with watchful doe eyes.

"Cellar door's locked." You tugged fruitlessly on the outside door leading to your basement, giving up after a few more strenuous pulls and backing off.

"You want me to break it open? It'll damage the lock a little but I'm sure I could get it." Sylvia didn't look up, but there was still sincerity in her well-meaning words.

"No, no, that's alright, Sylv. I'll get in another way." You promptly declined, gathering together as many thoughts as you could manage and looked your house up and down, trying to formulate a plan.

"Hey, that window looks kind of close enough." You spun around to see Sylvia pointing at a low positioned kitchen window, thin, but maybe not too thin for you. It was cracked open, as were the other windows in its row.

"Oh?" You mused, sauntering towards it with a sudden burst of confidence as the anxiety drained from you. It was just out of your reach, though...

"Sylvia?"

"Hmmm?"

"Need your help. Can't reach." You said, attempting to launch yourself across the windowsill, only resulting in nearly impaling yourself on the window crank.

"Alright, alright, don't kill yourself. Hold on." She jogged over, tucking the cigarette butt into her pocket and grabbing you by your hips, pulling you back down to safely to the ground.

"Why thank you, madam." You thanked her, quite out of breath from the ordeal. Sylvia took a moment to respond, looking you up and down before her eyes met yours again.

"'Welcome. Uhh, let's get you back up." She wrapped her hands around your hips, waiting for you to brace yourself against the windowsill to push you up.

"Here we go! Yes!" You cheered, voice faltering as you realized your parents were likely sleeping nearby. Without another word, you tucked both your legs inside the window and crouched on the windowsill, giving Sylvia a thumbs up. She gave you a silent thumbs up back, and you started to turn around to go back inside.

"Hey, uh, Y/N." Sylvia stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned around, leaning back out the window a little bit to hear Sylvia better.

"We should do something like this again sometime." She said. "Y'know, hanging out and stuff."

"For sure!" You chirped. "I had a lot of fun tonight. Way better than that dumb party for sure."

"Yeah." Sylvia smiled, a glow to her face jutting through the suffocating darkness. "I'm free next Friday, if you're down too."

"I probably am. I'll let you know what time at school Monday." You nodded, resting your elbow on the window, chin to your hand.

"Cool! Call it a date, then."

"Yeah." You mumbled, feeling warmth flood your cheeks.

"Sweet." Sylvia finished. Standing on her tip-toes, she took your face in her hands and gave you a smooth yet quick kiss on the lips. You were surprised; tasted like gummy bears and cigarettes and all the weekend nights you'd grow to regret. Still, it was something bittersweet, a wonderful closing to something that you never wanted to end. You opened your eyes and sparks flew from your lashes, lighting up the face of the girl with ginger hair. Next thing you knew, Sylvia was gone, dashing into the dank, rainy street.

"See you around!" You called after her, waving wildly, butterflies cluttering your being. Sylvia didn't respond, only turning around and flashing you a peace sign with her fingers, scarred from countless petty catfights over the years, before continuing to run off into the murky night.


End file.
